


The best medicine

by narada-talis (sarensen)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, PWP, Post-Season/Series 06, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22088770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarensen/pseuds/narada-talis
Summary: Written for this prompt: “We all wondered what happened to make Shiro jump ship to the Green Lion… Shiro is allergic to dogs - his pet dander allergy manifests like sex pollen when he has his first encounter with the space wolf after he wakes from the healing pod.”Excerpt:Everywhere Keith touches is like a trail of ice lathing Shiro's skin. The heat of arousal washes over him, almost strong enough to be painful - a fine web of thread-thin lightning connected to Keith's fingers. Inside him, the itch he can't scratch has returned full force, ants crawling on the underside of his skin. The closer Keith gets, the harder it is to keep his body from reacting. He finds himself practically rubbing his cheek against Keith's shoulder, unable to stop."Shiro..." Keith says, hardly above a whisper. "I don't know how to help."Bent over as he is, skin ablaze and sweat sheening on his neck and plastering his hair, Shiro must look a mess."I'm fine," he tries to reassure Keith, voice breaking."You're not. Let me help. I'll do anything."
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 165





	The best medicine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PiscesDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesDragon/gifts).



The hull of the Black Lion is cold. She's conserving energy for the long journey home, only the most essential of her systems running. Shiro wiggles deeper into the blankets, fighting the urge to shiver. His new body is still weak, and it's taken him a while to regain control of his senses. Every little sound in the hull still seems amplified, every light too bright. The smell of the asteroid they landed on to perform the soul transfer seems strong to him, metallic, sharp, and altogether unpleasant, even sealed away where he is inside the Lion.

The other Paladins are outside, squeezed together on logs around a makeshift campfire. The Lions aren't ready to leave yet. Even Black, the strongest of them, barely has enough reserves left to run the low heat for Shiro.

A loud bang followed by the clangour of the Lion's ramp descending announces someone's arrival. Cold, acrid air billows in from outside when Shiro lifts his head to look, making him squint.

The two shadows appearing in the square of light at the top of the ramp turn out to be Keith and a massive wolf, its fur midnight blue with incandescent neon streaks. It's a beautiful, if fearsome, creature. Shiro pushes himself up on his one arm, struggling a bit to gain his balance.

Keith comes to sit on the edge of the bed, holding a plate out towards Shiro. On it are small, dry-looking biscuits, a packet of food goo, and some sealed water. Compared to the Castleship's magnificent fare, the meagre food seems unappetizing. Shiro supposes he should be grateful to be able to eat again at all, after so long spent in the astral plane, and accepts the plate with only a small pang of regret.

Keith smiles at him with just the one corner of his mouth. The other corner is still pulled taught by the burn mark slicing into his cheek. Shiro looks away, his fingers tightening imperceptibly on the plate. He's retained a vague kind of awareness of everything the clone did with his body, like a double layer of memories stacked on top of those of his year in the astral plane. And while he knows the clone acted on its own, that it wasn't _Shiro_ \- that he would never hurt Keith, no matter what - the guilt is still a large and consuming weight in his chest.

The wolf sits down against Keith's legs, looking up at Shiro with its head slightly tilted.

"How're you feelin'?" Keith asks.

"Been better," Shiro admits around a mouthful of biscuit. "But, you know. Being stuck in the astral plane of a magical Lion for a year is a doozy."

Keith huffs, not quite a laugh. "I'm just glad to have you back."

The way he phrases it makes Shiro look up. Not _good to have you back_ , not _we're glad you're okay_. He'd said _I'm glad to have you back._ It's more personal, intimate somehow. Keith doesn't blame him for what happened. It's a small comfort.

While Shiro is parsing the meaning behind Keith's words, he notices that he's started feeling uncomfortably hot. He shifts slightly, reaching up to tug at the collar of his skinsuit. His neck feels flushed under his fingers, clammy with sweat.

Keith watches with a worried frown, then opens the packet of water for him, holding it out. When Shiro takes it, their fingers brush, and it's like lightning. Electricity races down Shiro's spine, the reaction strong enough to make him jolt.

"What's wrong?" Keith asks, pulling his own hand back as though burned.

"Nothing, Keith. I'm fine." Shiro lies. His heart rate has picked up, and a droplet of sweat beads between his shoulder blades, tickling as it drips down his back. He licks his suddenly dry lips, pretending to focus on his water while secretly watching Keith from the corner of his eye.

The wolf tilts its head curiously, large golden eyes following their movements. Shiro puts down the packet, and reaches out to ruffle its ears, going for a distraction. "Hey boy. And what's your name?"

The wolf sniffs curiously at his hand before taking an experimental lick.

"He doesn't have one," Keith says.

Shiro rubs his fingers unconsciously against his thigh as he flushes hotly again. There's heat, but there's also a strange, indescribable kind of itch just underneath his skin, like ants crawling over his bones. He shakes his head lightly as if to try and dispel the feeling.

"Doesn't have one?" he asks, looking at Keith.

Keith shrugs. "I figure he'll tell me when he's ready." Here, Shiro has to smile at himself, because that's the single most Keith-like statement he's ever heard. Keith continues, "The others've been calling him Kosmo, though."

"Nice to meet you, Kosmo..." Shiro pets the large, blue head again, then has to clench his fist as the itch intensifies. He can feel his heart beat in his throat, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment as a wave of vertigo rolls over him.

Keith leans over, pressing the back of his hand against Shiro's forehead. His voice echoes as if over a great distance, the soft "You've got a fever..." barely audible over the rush of blood surging in Shiro's ears.

He bites back a gasp at the wave of pleasure racing over his body. Keith's fingers press lightly into the side of his neck, and it sends a full-body shiver down his spine. Lightning sparks from Keith's fingertips, and it feels better than anything Shiro's felt before. He fights the urge to close his eyes again, kind of squinting at Keith with blurry vision.

The space wolf hops on the bed with its front paws, tail wagging.

And Shiro's whole body tingles. A prickling sensation like a hundred needles dragging over his skin races over his arm and chest. To his chagrin, he feels himself starting to harden. Cheeks flaming, he tries to shift unnoticeably, laying the plate down in his lap.

"... sure you're okay?"

The rushing of blood in Shiro's ears subsides somewhat when Keith removes his hand from his body. "Huh?" he says eloquently.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Keith repeats patiently, brow creased with worry.

"I'm fine. I'm just... getting used to this new body. I just need some time, is all."

"Okay..." Keith says, sounding unconvinced. He sits back, his thigh touching Shiro's leg through a thin layer of space blanket. "Coran says the Lions should be ready to leave in a few vargas. Just... get some rest."

Shiro nods. Keith stands, looking at him for another while as if he wants to say something else, but seeming to decide against it. The wolf shuffles to its feet, twitching one ear at Shiro, then trails after Keith as they leave the Lion.

The door shuts behind them, and Shiro is left once more in the blessed cool and dark of the Lion's hull. The whooshing sound in his ears gradually fades. The air seems a bit clearer, as if he can breathe again.

To his relief, his erection subsides as well, and he lets himself drop back against the small pillow. Perhaps it's the novelty of being able to experience touch again after spending so long stuck in the astral plane. Perhaps it's the fear of almost dying so many times. Perhaps it's the way Keith looked at him.

Whatever it was, it felt embarrassingly good. And to his shame, there's a small part of him that'll do anything to feel it again.

***

Shiro naps, on and off, between stints of staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out what that strange feeling was. After a few hours, he gives up on sleeping entirely and goes outside to join the others around the small fire.

He sits down on a seat that is actually just a rock, smiling at the chorus of "Hey, Shiro!" and "How are you feeling?" and "Are you sure you should be up?"

"I'm fine, everyone," he reassures the other Paladins. "Really. Just needed some fresh air."

Keith gets up from the ground, coming to sit next to Shiro. The space wolf follows, leaning its heavy weight against Shiro's legs when it flops down. It licks his hand, and the reaction is immediate: Shiro feels himself hardening again, goosebumps racing down his arms.

Never has he hated the skin-tight Paladin armor more than in this moment. He hurriedly gets up, mumbling some excuse about still being tired after all, and ignores the others' worried exclamations to all but jog back up Black's ramp and into the hull, hoping against hope that none of them saw the cause of his embarrassment.

The cool air immediately makes him feel a bit better. He takes a deep breath, sinking down on the small bunk. The mattress isn't very comfortable, but in that moment, it feels like bliss, quenching the fire on his skin. Gradually, the itch starts to fade, his muscles slowly relaxing. Relief washes over him in a wave as his body returns to normal.

It must be some residual effect of the soul transfer, a process he only barely survived. It will probably take some time for him to recover. Whatever the case may be, he can't be around the others right now and risk them noticing his... problem.

With a frown, he lies down again, resigned to spending the rest of their journey cooped up in Black's hull, staring at the ceiling. It isn't until many hours later that he finally manages to fall asleep.

***

A soft scuffle in the hull wakes him. The mattress dips with someone's weight as they sit down next to him, a soft hand touching his forehead lightly.

"Keith..." he says, without opening his eyes.

"Hey," comes the soft reply. "How're you doing?"

Shiro looks up at him with a small smile, shrugging his good shoulder. "Same." The itch has all but gone, but he still feels on edge, the fear that his arousal will return at any moment on the forefront of his mind.

Keith nods slowly. "I'm gonna go scouting for some food with Hunk. Will you be okay here?"

"Course," Shiro assures him, levering himself up into a sitting position. "You don't have to worry about me, Keith."

Keith looks unsure, biting his lip. "I'll leave the wolf here. He can teleport, so he can come get me if you need me."

"You don't have to do that. I'll be fine," Shiro says, reaching out to touch Keith's arm. A small part of him marvels that, after everything they've been through, the fact that the wolf can teleport doesn't even strike him as strange anymore.

"He can stay," Keith insists. "He's worried about you, too." Keith looks at Shiro with a small frown, and the way he says it is so sincere, as if he really believes Kosmo could be worried about him. Maybe he could. Shiro doesn't know a lot about space wolves.

"Alright, fine. Kosmo can stay," he accedes. "We can get to know each other a bit. Though he'll probably just get bored with how much I'm going to sleep."

Keith inclines his head, then looks to the side. As if by some unheard signal, Kosmo appears in the hull with a pop and a flash. Keith looks at him, and the wolf looks back, and it almost seems as though they're communicating somehow, through some invisible mental link. Then Keith gets up, leaning over to squeeze Shiro's shoulder lightly. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Shiro smiles at him reassuringly, watching him disappear down the ramp. The wolf jumps up onto the bunk, turning around in a circle a few times before lying down on top of Shiro's legs.

Instantly, Shiro's body starts to tingle again. He shifts uncomfortably, tugging on the blankets. Kosmo lifts his head curiously, seeming to ask a question with his eyes.

"I'm fine," Shiro tells him, but he's starting to fear that he isn't. He swallows hard, crooking one leg under the blanket and nearly dislodging the wolf. His pulse leaps into his throat, sweat beading on his forehead. The sheets start to feel too hot, too coarse, like sandpaper on his skin. He itches all over, and no matter how he turns or twists, nothing helps.

Kosmo belly-crawls up the bunk next to him with a concerned whine, licking his face. Shiro can't help the soft sound escaping his throat as it sets his body ablaze. He moans slightly, arching back helplessly as his cock twitches to life.

He suddenly finds himself in the sweet, sweet hell of arousal, twisting around in the sheets, legs writhing as he tries to resist the urge to touch himself. Only half-aware of his surroundings, he dimly registers a flash of light and a sudden lack of weight at his side.

And then Keith is there, somehow. Shiro's hair clings to his forehead with sweat, and it feels like his whole body has been on fire for so long he's forgotten what it feels like not to burn.

Keith stares for a moment, one hand still buried in Kosmo's fur, then rushes over. He kneels worriedly next to the bed, touching Shiro's upper arm. Almost instantly, the tingling sensation fades. Shiro leans into the hand unconsciously. It's like a splash of blessedly cold water, and he can't help but gasp at how good it feels, innocent though the touch may be. Before he can stop himself, his hand has somehow come to rest on Keith's thigh lightly. He freezes, too afraid to move it.

Keith doesn't seem to notice, shooing Kosmo out of the hull before checking Shiro over with that same worried little frown. And everywhere he touches is like a trail of ice lathing Shiro's skin. The heat of arousal washes over him, almost strong enough to be painful - a fine web of thread-thin lightning connected to Keith's fingers. Inside him, the itch he can't scratch has returned full force, ants crawling on the underside of his skin. The closer Keith gets, the harder it is to keep his body from reacting. He finds himself practically rubbing his cheek against Keith's shoulder, unable to stop.

"Shiro..." Keith says, hardly above a whisper. "I don't know how to help."

Bent over as he is, skin ablaze and sweat sheening on his neck and plastering his hair, Shiro must look a mess.

"I'm fine," he tries to reassure Keith, voice breaking.

"You're not. Let me help. I'll do anything."

Shiro swallows, then forces himself to say, "No, not this. I can't ask you to help with this." Neither can he bring himself to ask Keith to leave entirely.

When Keith's palm comes to rest on Shiro's crotch, he gasps, whipping his head up to look at him. "K-Keith!"

" _Anything_ ," Keith says, eyes boring into Shiro's. "I mean it."

Shiro wants to protest, but the way Keith is massaging him lightly through his pants just feels too good. Shiro grabs his wrist, but more just to hold on, something to ground him. It's electrifying. He moans, surprising himself.

Before he can stop him, Keith has peeled the black skinsuit down over his hips and slipped his hand inside. He fists Shiro's cock, and it twitches hard, making Shiro's thighs tense. Keith's fingers jerk away, his eyes flying up to Shiro's.

"What's wrong?" Shiro manages. _Why did you stop don't stop please don't stop_.

"It's just..." Keith pauses. "It's much bigger than I imagined."

The thought of Keith having imagined what Shiro's cock looks like sends a full-body shiver over him. Some part of him knows he should be wondering why Keith was thinking about his cock at all, but it's overridden by the desperate need for more touch.

He bites his lip, smiling slightly. "That a good thing or a bad thing?"

Instead of answering, Keith grips him again and squeezes, pumping his hand up and down a few times. Shiro's arousal is so strong the movement almost borders on painful. At the same time, it feels better than anything he's felt. Shiro is leaking so much precome already, it makes for slippery going, and Keith's hand slides easily over his cock. His fingers are calloused from his blade and deliciously rough, and somehow he knows exactly where to apply pressure - just below the head, squeezing and twisting his hand around. Pleasure builds at a pace faster than anything Shiro's felt before, and he gasps, heat pooling low in his belly.

He reaches out with his one hand to grip Keith's shoulder lightly, biting out between gritted teeth, "Keith, I'm gonna..."

Keith squeezes again and everything goes white for a second.

When he comes back to himself Keith is staring at him with something resembling awe. And then he surges in to kiss him. It acts as fuel to the fire under Shiro's skin, setting his body ablaze. The kiss is hot and passionate, wet and sloppy, too desperate for finesse, and perfect in every way.

Without breaking contact, he takes hold of Keith's collar and pulls him up to straddle his thighs. Keith makes a surprised sound into Shiro's mouth, but goes willingly.

When he finally pulls away, it's to look at Shiro in a daze. A trail of saliva connects their mouths for a second, then breaks. Keith's lips are red and slightly swollen, his hair hanging over his eyes.

What they're doing crashes into Shiro all at once. He sits up, dislodging Keith, who half tumbles onto the bed next to him.

Keith scrambles away from him, wiping his mouth with the palm of his hand. "Shiro, I'm _so_ sorry... I don't know what came over me."

"No, it's... It's okay."

"No, it's not. I've just been so desperate to see you again and when I saw you were hard it's like my body acted on its own and..." Keith's run-on sentence trails off, and he looks away, blushing.

"Keith," Shiro reaches out to touch his shoulder, "It's really okay. I liked it."

Keith looks up at him. "You did?"

Shiro smiles, trying his best to look reassuring. "I really did."

Keith says, "I feel like I took advantage of you or something."

Shiro shakes his head. "You didn't. Trust me. There's literally nothing I wanted more than for you to touch me. It was like a dream. If anything, I should apologize to you for... I dunno. All of this. I have no idea what's going on with me."

Keith blushes, embarrassed and adorable. It's the first time Shiro's seen him look this timid. He's usually so closed off to others.

Shiro leans over to touch his face, reveling in the thrill that chases through him at the feel of Keith's skin. His heart is full despite the awkwardness between them, despite the arousal that, while slightly dampened, is still very much raging through his body.

"Keith, while I was in the Black Lion's consciousness... you don't know how many times I dreamed about you."

Keith looks up at him, his eyes filled with emotion.

"Being with you is everything I've ever wanted." Shiro says. "But it's important to me to know that you want this, too. That's the only reason why I pushed you away."

Keith smiles, and it's sweeter than anything Shiro has ever seen. "I want this, Shiro. I want you. I've always wanted you."

A flash of light and a zapping sound precedes the return of Kosmo, who has apparently decided it's had enough of the other Paladins. It jumps up with its forepaws on Keith's knees. Shiro hurriedly tugs his pants back up as his body twitches, erection coming back in full force.

Keith notices, his eyebrows rising.

Their eyes meet, and a horrible realization dawns on Shiro.

Apparently, when the witch Haggar cloned his original body, she'd copied every little detail perfectly - right down to his childhood dog allergy. As Shiro had gotten older, the allergy had started getting less and less severe. Not so for the clone, obviously. Or maybe it's the fact that Kosmo is a space wolf and his body just was not prepared for alien dog dander.

Whatever the case may be, every time Kosmo appears, his body starts going haywire.

"I think I'm allergic to your wolf," he tells Keith matter-of-factly.

"I gotta be honest, Shiro. This isn't like any allergy I've seen before." Keith is obviously choking back laughter, his eyes crinkling with mirth.

Shiro groans, flopping back onto the bed and pulling a pillow into his lap. His skin is on fire. The point where Keith's thigh touches his feels like a hot poker.

Keith gets up to usher a protesting Kosmo outside again, shutting the hull door behind him. He turns to look at the way Shiro is lying with his palm covering his face and asks, "You doin' okay?"

Shiro just came. He should be spent - but it's the opposite of that. If anything, his arousal is stronger than before, his erection tenting the front of his pants, demanding attention.

"Not really..." he says miserably.

Keith comes over, crouching down next to the bed. "Let me help again."

Shiro lifts his hand slightly to peek at him with one eye. "I'm not sure... you actually can."

Keith cocks his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

Shiro winces. "I think... it feels like maybe this isn't going to go away unless..."

Keith blinks. A muscle twitches in his jaw. There's an awkward silence long enough for the blush that started on his cheeks to bleed all the way down his neck and into his chest.

Eventually, he says, "So... then let's do it. Let's have sex."

Shiro's eyes widen, his mouth dropping open in shock for a second. "No. Wait. Let's just think about this for a second." He grasps for words, entirely unsure if Keith's even ever done it with someone before and what the implications of all of this are and--

"I want to," Keith says simply.

"I can't ask you to do this," Shiro replies. "It's too fast."

"It's not. Not if it's with you."

Shiro sighs. "I don't want you to think we're just doing this because of this... allergy or whatever this is."

Keith smiles slightly. "I won't, if we do it again once you're better."

Shiro's pretty sure his soul leaves his body for a moment. "Keith..." He doesn't mean for it to sound so much like a moan.

"Shiro." Keith says in a voice that broaches no argument. "I want this. What can I do to convince you?"

He climbs up onto Shiro's lap, straddling his thighs again, and takes Shiro's hand, pulling it behind him and putting it on his ass so his fingers just lightly brush the clothes over his entrance.

Shiro is unable to stop himself anymore - he surges up and kisses Keith, hard this time, the need to be careful with him hazed over by a sudden wave of lust.

He hooks his fingers under the chest plate of the red Paladin armor, tugging on it and murmuring against Keith's mouth, "Need to be inside you..."

Keith makes a soft involuntary sound, shifting back to pull uncoordinatedly at his armor and tossing the pieces haphazardly to the floor. Shiro lets his hand rub up and down Keith's thigh, watching impatiently.

When Keith is bare from the waist up, he plucks Shiro's shirt up and over his head, taking care not to jolt the stump of his severed arm.

He looks down at Shiro, hair curtaining his face, and puts his palm on his cheek. Leaning down to kiss him again, he lets his other hand slip into Shiro's pants and takes his cock in his fist. Shiro feels it fill out almost immediately, swelling eagerly in Keith's grip with a rush of pleasure that leaves his spine feeling numb.

Keith doesn't let go until Shiro is fully hard again and aching. Shiro makes a desperate sound at the loss of pressure, nearly reaching out to stop him.

But Keith is wriggling out of his pants and now he's completely naked, and all Shiro can do is stare in awe of how beautiful he is - all his lithe muscle and satin skin, bony shoulders and the pink lashes of battle scars.

He clambers back onto Shiro's lap and Shiro grips his waist tightly, noticing how his fingers reach all the way to the middle of Keith's back. Before he can comment on the fact, Keith lifts his hand to his mouth and sucks two of his own fingers between those full lips, dragging them out and pushing them slowly back in, and Shiro's mouth goes completely dry.

He stares as Keith reaches behind himself, and the next moment, his body twitches, eyes squeezing shut. And Shiro may not know whether Keith's slept with anyone before or not, but he's definitely done _this_.

He watches the barest lift and fall of Keith's hips as he rides his own fingers in awe. It's obscene. It's the most beautiful thing Shiro has ever seen. He finds his eyes glued to Keith, unable to look away from the way his face scrunches up in pleasure, from the little frown and the red flush spreading slowly down from his neck over his chest.

At the sharp little moan when Keith hits his sweet spot, Shiro feels his cock twitch hard, a long stream of sticky, warm precome dribbling down the crook of his thigh. His erection hasn't flagged at all from the lack of attention - instead, he's so hard it hurts, the head of his cock peeking out of the top of his pants where it lies red and swollen, flat against his stomach.

"Keith--," he chokes out, the need to touch so desperate that he's unable to stop himself. He shoves his pants down and takes his cock in hand, smearing precome over the head and down the shaft. The touch is good, but nothing like the electric shock of pleasure that had come from Keith's hand.

He needs Keith to hurry. Needs to be inside him right now. The need is so strong it overrides almost every other thought except one - the primal instinct to protect Keith. The only thing stronger than his desire to fuck him at the moment is his desire to not hurt him. So instead of telling him to hurry up, he bites his lip, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of his own hand on his cock.

An indeterminate amount of time later he feels Keith's hand close around his own and opens his eyes. Sweat beading on his forehead, cheeks flushed a pretty red, Keith stares at him from beneath hooded eyelids.

He pulls Shiro's pants down a bit more around his thighs, then rises up, shifting closer. Shiro looks down, using his hand to line his cock up with Keith's entrance, and then Keith is lowering himself down and it's incredibly hot and tight and Shiro feels like his soul definitely leaves his body this time.

He can't stop the long drawn-out groan leaving his throat. Keith throws his head back, his back arching, mouth forming a little 'o' of pleasure.

He doesn't stop until he's fully seated. Shiro is so far beyond words he can't even remember his own name at this point. All he's capable of are soft little grunts every time Keith moves.

They're both breathing hard. After a long moment, Keith opens his eyes, lowering his gaze to meet Shiro's.

Shiro leans over, tasting the sweat in Keith's clavicle before kissing a trail up to his ear. He stops there to whisper, "You okay?"

He feels Keith nod by the way his hair tickles his cheek. His voice is hoarse and he sounds as overwhelmed as Shiro feels when he replies, "It's just... you're so big..."

"Too much?" Shiro asks, though he doesn't think he'll be able to pull out now even if he wants to. Something primal in his body is urging him to thrust up, almost beyond his control. The only thing that stops him is feeling Keith's narrow shoulders and sharp hipbones against him, delicate in a way Keith never lets anyone see he is. It reinforces the need to not hurt him.

Keith shakes his head, seemingly beyond words. After a moment, he starts to move.

Shiro's hand clenches on his thigh, hard. He pulls back to watch Keith. All the muscles in his jaw are tensed and his eyes are slanted as he makes the smallest thrusts back and forward.

Waves of heat roll over Shiro, lightning racing over his spine. It feels like his body is covered in pins and needles. He knows Keith is still getting used to his girth, squeezing impossibly tight around him, but that primal thing inside him is rising and he loses his hold on it for a moment.

Keith stutters a punched-out groan, letting his head drop forward as Shiro thrusts up hard into his soft heat.

Difficult as it is, Shiro forces himself to still and tilts Keith's chin up after a few calming breaths. Galra-yellow eyes and slitted pupils look up at him, making him moan at the sight.

Keith is feral and wild and perfect. "Move," he growls, the sharp points of fangs peeking out from behind his curled lip.

Shiro thrusts up again, and again, and Keith is so hot and tight and wet inside it doesn't take much. He's been too hard and too full and too on edge for too long. The wave crests inside him after only a few thrusts, and he cries out loudly as he empties himself into Keith in long spurts, clenching his good arm around Keith's waist to keep himself buried as deep as he can inside him.

It's as if the orgasm taps the last of his strength from him. He slumps backward onto the pillows, unable to hold himself upright any longer. The relief of pressure almost makes him black out. The surge of blood in his ears slowly subsides, the cool air of the hull gradually enveloping him again in a blanket of peace.

When he opens his eyes again, Keith is leaning over him with his palms on either side of his head. They're still joined - Shiro feels every single one of Keith's movements vibrate through his soft, too-sensitive cock.

Keith's hair tickles his neck as he leans down for a kiss. His eyes have gone back to normal. "Feel better?" he asks.

Shiro considers. His head has cleared up a bit, and the feeling of ants crawling under his skin has abated. "I do, yeah."

"Oh." Keith says, eyes downcast.

Frowning slightly, Shiro lets his gaze trail down to where their bodies are joined. Keith's cock is still very much erect, beads of white precome pearling on the head. He follows Shiro's gaze, then shifts, squeezing around him hopefully. Shiro can feel the barest stirrings of pleasure in his belly, but now that the allergy has been worked out of his system, his refractory period has returned in full force and his cock remains soft within Keith.

He bites his lip, then looks up at Keith. "You could always call Kosmo in here again..."

Keith smiles slightly, leaning down to kiss him, and does just that.

***

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay down there?" Pidge asks, doubt tingeing her voice as she watches Shiro lay down his pillow on the blanket he'd arranged on the floor of the Green Lion. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she continues, "You really can take my bunk. It'd be more comfortable."

She doesn't add, _"I'm not really sure why you're here in the first place when there's a perfectly good bunk in the Black Lion."_ \- but it's written clearly in her expression.

Shiro smiles at her, sitting down on his makeshift pallet. "I'm fine, Pidge. Really. They say sleep is the best medicine, so I'll be much better after getting some rest here. Thanks again for letting me ride with you."

"Course, Shiro." She looks like she's about to say something else, then decides against it, clambering up into the pilot's seat to take off with the rest of the Lions.

Through Green's viewport, Shiro watches the Black Lion claw into the sky, with Keith and Kosmo inside. He flops down on the pallet and closes his eyes, grateful for the reprieve. As amazing as the previous night with Keith had been, his new body hasn't quite regained its strength yet from the soul transfer, and his stamina has taken a beating. He desperately needs some rest.

A flash of light and a sizzling pop make his eyes fly open.

"Oh, hey, boy," he hears Pidge greet the space wolf, "What're you doing here?"

Shiro groans, the familiar itch settling over him again. As far as cures go, staying in the Green Lion is turning out to be wildly ineffective and he will apparently, his body informs him, be moving back to the Black Lion sooner than expected. With a sigh, he resigns himself to the fact that sleep _isn't_ , in fact, the best medicine.

Keith is.


End file.
